Exile of the Clave

Exile of the Clave - Chapter 18

Baelerithon watched impassively as Rayce lifted away from the Hunters after his shaky attempt to assert his command. It was easy to mark the signs of exhaustion in his brother's features and to look past his veneer of control; the Shadowhunter would break under the strain soon, and then it would be time to strike.

The other Faeries around him moved slowly, none of them in any great hurry to obey Rayce's orders. He had failed to specify a timeline for his wishes despite his increasing care with his words. Bael pursed his lips and shook his head disdainfully to himself. I never had much hope for one so tainted by Mortal blood, but I did try, Mother.

Vindictus was still laughing quietly with another of the Hunters as Fiorinor casually inspected the chipped length of the sword he carried. All three of the Fey looked up as Bael approached, wary of their newest brother. They were among those the former prince had marked out as having weaker familial bonds to the others, and were therefore less likely to retaliate against him for the losses the Hunt had suffered during the retaking of the Seelie Court. He felt Kieran's watchful presence at his back, a silent ally lending credibility to Bael's words without over-committing himself. Smarter than I gave him credit for, Bael noted with surprise.

"Vindictus, Fiorinor, Arctos," he greeted them cautiously, not yet daring to call them brothers, but still confident enough to use the names he had been so carefully collecting.

"Prince Baelerithon," Vindictus replied graciously with a slight nod. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. The Faerie was familiar to him, having been a member of the Unseelie Court up until barely two Mortal years earlier when he had been revealed to have been attempting to reach for the King's crown. Vindictus was hardly a novice when it came to spinning subterfuge, and Bael was pleased to find that the other man seemed to hold some degree of respect for his own bid for the throne.

The sallow, satyr-hooved Faerie at his side spat into the red and purple grasses at their feet, but declined to offer either an open insult or a greeting. Fair enough.

Arctos rolled his eyes and left the other two without a word.

Bael caught the quick flick of Vindictus' eyes as he took Kieran's measure over the former Crown Prince's wingless shoulder. He tried to read the armoured Faerie's reaction to judge if it was favourable, but the Unseelie was skilled at hiding his emotions.

Vindictus lifted a finger to forestall Baelerithon. "Allow me to guess. You are seeking allies to help you bring down your brother and strip that cloak from his shoulders. You know that you cannot best him in fair combat, and so now you require smoke and mirrors to distract him while you weave in closer for the kill."

Bael spread his hands in acceptance. "Smoke and mirrors would not avail me long against you, my Lord, though they seem simple enough to fool my brother." Pride had been Vindictus' weakness at Court, as evidenced by his continued use of a silver-filigree coronet that marked a lesser Lord of the Unseelie. The King would likely have stripped it from him before consigning him to the Hunt, save that it would serve as a cruel reminder of what had been lost. Bael had read it all in the other Faerie while matching up pieces of what he knew of him, and it all paid off as Vindictus' lips twitched up in pleasure at hearing his old title once more.

"Many simple things would likely fool your brother, Prince Baelerithon. Your mother should not have bred so far beneath herself with the Morgenstern boy." The Hunter's pale blue and black eyes narrowed as he refocused on Bael. "I, however, am capable of small leaps in reasoning. The cloak can only be worn by one man, and I am uninterested in helping a Seelie claim it."

Adopting a smile touched with faint, and false, amusement, Bael masked his disappointment and touched his brow lightly before murmuring, "A pity, my Lord." He turned away and plainly saw displeasure in Kieran's eyes as their first attempt to reel in more co-conspirators failed. Seeing the foolish Unseelie child daring to pass judgement on him brought his temper up for a moment before he crushed it ruthlessly. Time is on my side.